


They Danced In Silence

by Rakshi



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M, Sean and Elijah Tribble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-06
Updated: 2011-12-06
Packaged: 2017-10-27 00:36:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/289633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rakshi/pseuds/Rakshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris' POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Danced In Silence

**Author's Note:**

> Four tribbles which create one story.  
> [Hitting The Limit](http://archiveofourown.org/works/289623)  
> [They Danced In Silence](http://archiveofourown.org/works/289633)  
> [A Dawning Sense Of Peace](http://archiveofourown.org/works/289635)  
> [Broken Promises](http://archiveofourown.org/works/289636)

Sean patted her bottom as he walked past her to his office, his coffee mug already at his lips. He drank too much coffee, but she knew better than to say anything.

The touch had been pure reflex, a gesture he’d made in passing 10000 times in the past fifteen years. He probably didn’t even realize he’d done it. She pondered how long it had been since he’d touched her with real passion then stopped and forced herself to think of something else… _anything_ else.

She wondered how long it would take him to approach her. He’d been close a couple times… once quite recently. From the corner of her eye she’d caught the furtive glances, shaded with guilt. _’Here it comes,’_ she’d thought steeling herself against the blow she knew was coming. But the blow didn’t fall.

She wondered who it was that he touched with the passion he used to reserve for her alone. She supposed that he saw his silence as merciful… or even noble. He was a master at framing his motives in high-sounding phrases. She supposed he actually believed it… that he was showing her mercy.

And in the final analysis, that’s what angered her most. That he couldn’t just admit to the death of love and let them both move on. That he had to take the high road when the low road was actually the better, more healing path.

Yet… she couldn’t confront _him_ either. So they danced in well memorized moves… neither of them able to admit that they danced in silence… that the music had long ago stopped playing.

He emerged from his office, smiling happily. “I’m meeting Elijah for lunch.”

“Tell him ‘Hi’.”

Again... the furtive glance laced with guilt.

Awareness tugged at the distant recesses of her mind. ‘ _Elijah?_ ’


End file.
